Stuck in a Moment

Frozen inside without your touch

Without your love, darling

Only you are the life among the dead

The music was deafening in his ears, and he couldn't remember why he was there. Ron and Hermione had dragged him there in an effort to bring him out of his shell. It was a muggle club, somewhere far removed from the magical world that couldn't possibly bring up any memories of the past; memories of the life he had taken.

What they didn't understand was that those memories would never fade. They were as vivid now as they were six months ago. He could still smell the blood and sweat that covered him. He could still hear the dying screams of those around him. Worst of all, he could still see the pleading in Voldemort's eyes as he lay crumpled at his feet. 'Please' they begged him, but the curse was already on his lips and this time, there was no coming back. Voldemort had marked him as the only one who could kill him; the one destined to be the only person able to kill him with Avada Kedavra.

Ever since that moment, Harry had felt tainted. The only way to kill a person with the Killing Curse is to hold a hatred for them that is all encompassing. You have to be able to hate beyond all coherent thought. It was only after he had been forced to watch Voldemort torture and kill Dumbledore, that Harry had known what that really felt like. And now, there was nothing. He'd taken a life, no matter how cruel and evil he was. Harry never wanted to feel anything like that again. So he just didn't feel anything. He was scared of himself; of what he was capable of.

If anything, Harry thought the music had gotten louder, pounding vibrations rattled through his body. He felt uncomfortable, out of place in this darkened, hot, smoky club. He took another gulp of his drink and looked around him, feeling the vaguely comforting warmth of the alcohol flood through him. The place was packed with people, who all looked happy and comfortable in themselves as they danced to a beat that seemed to latch on to something dark and primal within them. There was nothing wrong here. As their bodies swayed, completely held by the beat, Harry felt strangely detached from the scene; as though he wasn't really there.

Strobe lighting flashed and flickered, casting eerie shadows over faces, making them at times appear almost demonic. To Harry, they seemed to be a completely new species. A life-form capable of the thought and emotion he had so expertly banished from himself. Ron and Hermione were in there somewhere. They had quickly grown tired of his solitary, melancholic mood and had left, promising to return soon. They'd been gone for over an hour now.

Harry downed the last of his drink and prepared to leave, his friends would get the hint. Then, as he stood, he saw it. A flash of silver-blond hair, a colour so distinctive that Harry would know it anywhere, and he was there, standing no more than five feet away.

'No. Not here. Not now! I'm not ready.'

Steel-grey eyes held his, and the world held its breath. Everything faded away to mere background noise as Harry was enraptured by the sight that was Draco Malfoy. Blond hair in disarray, sweating slightly, breath heaving in his chest. Harry didn't think he'd ever looked more beautiful. Guilt washed over him once more as he remembered. He knew what it felt to run his fingers through that hair, to kiss that long, pale neck. He knew that body like it was his own, and he had thrown it away. In that moment Harry remembered how Draco had given up everything for him, how he'd taken his father's ridicule and rejection, death threats from his fellow Slytherins, mistrust and repugnance from those on the side he finally chose because of his name. It had all been for Harry. Then Harry remembered how, after the final battle, when Voldemort's final scream had yet to fade from his ears, he had turned away and rejected Draco; his love scared him just as much as his hate did.

Draco wasn't moving, clearly waiting for Harry to make the first move. Harry remembered whispered moans, sweet kisses filled with warmth and tenderness, gentle caresses that melted his soul, murmured words of love and eternity, and realised how tired he was of living in the past. He was tired of being afraid of himself; of living in a world of self-denial and guilt that fed his unhappy state with a bitter poison. Slowly, he took a step forwards. This was all the prompting that Draco needed, and he quickly closed the gap between them, encircling Harry in his strong arms. Harry hung on for dear life as Draco's familiar heat surrounded him once more.

"Harry?" Draco said in his ear, gently probing. Harry shouldn't have possibly been able to hear him, but he caught each syllable. He looked into the depths of Draco's eyes once more and felt tears start to flow down his cheeks. Something broke inside of him. Draco lifted his hand to Harry's cheeks and wiped the tears away.

"I killed him," Harry said.

"I know. You had to." Draco looked worriedly into Harry's face.

"It hurts."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

Their lips found each other, and Harry's forgiveness was complete. Draco's lips told him more than words ever could. They told him that it was OK to cry, it was OK to be afraid and, most of all, it was OK to feel guilty about killing the most evil man in the history of the wizarding world.

The noise, the heat, the light, all came flooding back to Harry as Draco's tongue met his. His senses on overload as Harry once again allowed himself to feel.

*

Ron and Hermione forced their way through the crowds to where they had left Harry, only to find the fiercely kissing couple, completely oblivious to all around them. Hermione let a small smile grace her lips as Ron stared with his mouth open between them and her. A sudden suspicious look crossed his features.

"Hermione? Why did you want to come here tonight? You knew he'd be here didn't you?" he asked sharply. Giving Ron her most innocent look which he didn't buy for a second, she said,

"I don't know what you're talking about Ron. Come on, let's go back and dance and leave them to it."

With that, she grabbed his hand and led him back into the crowd, briefly thinking of the hours it had taken her to find out where Draco went every Friday night.

Wake me up inside,

Wake me up inside,

Call my name and save me from the dark.

Evanescence - Bring Me To Life